


Hard in All the Wrong Places

by pavlablack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sexual Content, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavlablack/pseuds/pavlablack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night Sirius becomes the Potters' secret keeper, he suspects Remus is keeping some secrets of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard in All the Wrong Places

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling, not me. No copyright infringement intended.

Sirius Black never had a problem getting hard. Not wanking behind closed bed curtains (even if he had to tune out James bloody going on and on about Evans and Peter bloody fawning over every daft thing James said), not lying on a tattered mattress in the freezing Shack (mornings after full moons, with Remus stretched out or tangled in the sheets beside him), not even sitting next to Remus in the Great Hall, ages before he’d worked out why their knees bumping under the table gave him a hard-on so intense he thought he’d come right then and there.  


And the first time Remus had _touched_ him. . .

_Merlin, Moony—you sure you’ve never done this before because—ahmm, this is better than the first time doing magic and—how come I didn’t know—oh, fuck—that you had magic hands, what else have you been hiding—_

But this wasn’t the first time; it was meant to be the last. Even if Remus didn’t know it, because now they were both hiding things ( _ha!_ ), so maybe this, knowing Remus ( _not Moony, no, not Moony anymore_ ) was a goddamn _spy_ was why, kneeling on the hard floor of the flat with his pants down to his knees and his cock in Remus’s hand, for the first time in his life, Sirius couldn’t get hard.

“Fuck,” he spat, digging a jagged nail in Remus’s hand (he wanted to wound) before shoving it away and wrapping his own hand around his cock, and he wasn’t sure if the hitch of breath he heard was his own frustrated sigh or Remus’s reaction to what he’d done. And what right did Remus have to react to anything anyway? _Remus_ , his goddamn everything. _Remus_ , a goddamn traitor.

And his own hand that had never failed to get him off before, well, that was a traitor too.

_Shut it, Padfoot, Moony said, taking his hand away from Sirius’s cock and placing two fingers to Sirius’s lips before kissing him (and his tongue was magic, too), but he didn’t mean it, Sirius knew (the insult, not the kiss), he just wasn’t good at taking compliments, wasn’t good at taking anything really, always more comfortable giving, and Sirius wanted to give him everything, heart mind body soul new robes a cure and he reached out and he took Moony’s hand and kissed it before moving his own hand to Moony’s cock, trying to copy what Moony had done before, just a few light caresses before wrapping his hand around and moving it up and down and up and down (and I’ve done this loads of times to myself but not to you so do you like this is this right I don’t know what I’m doing but I want to make you feel good)_

“Sirius, it’s okay,” Remus said, leaning forward and brushing his fingers over Sirius’s knuckles. He was still completely dressed; they’d not gotten very far.

“It’s bloody well not,” he answered, flinging Remus’s hand away so hard it caught against the table. Sirius watched as Remus’s favorite teacup fell in a swirl of red and white to the floor, shattering into pieces.

He reached for his wand at the same time Remus reached for his, and there was a moment, as they each drew their arms across their bodies, that their wands met in midair and he thought they might hex each other.

“I can still do a fucking Reparo spell,” Sirius said, though he dropped his wand to his side, afraid it might fail him too. He shut his eyes, willing Remus to hit him with a killing curse, or better yet, Cruciato. Excruciating pain, he thought, would be better than the numb and crushing weight of betrayal.

_But then he couldn’t think because Moony was sliding one hand down up between Sirius’s legs again and letting the other hand drift down his back, lower and lower and lower until his thumb brushed just right there and Sirius moved his hand faster and faster and faster because Moony was touching him in all the right places with those magic hands and sliding his magic tongue down Sirius’s neck and breathing magic breath into his ear, calling out—Sirius, oh—as he came and all of it, all of it together was so bloody brilliant and then Sirius was coming and coming and coming . . ._

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Remus said, and Sirius thought he heard an edge of something in Remus’s voice that wasn’t there before. “And then I imagine you ought to be getting on to James’s to perform the Fidelius.”

Sirius opened his eyes, to search for something, anything on Remus’s face—a confirmation of guilt or innocence he might have missed before—but Remus was already walking away. He paused as he reached the doorway, still not turning around. “I have to go out for a bit—Order business—but I’ll be home by the time you get back. Maybe we can . . . talk then.”

Sirius didn’t say anything. He simply pulled his trousers up and tucked his wand away, taking one last look at Remus’s back before making his way out the opposite door. He left the mess on the floor as evidence, sharp edges and dark liquid spreading like an ocean of broken bodies and spilled blood between them.


End file.
